


Scarlet and Gold

by pythaglorious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, M/M, Possibly Pre-Slash, gryffindor!draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythaglorious/pseuds/pythaglorious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy always knew he would be sorted into Slytherin. His entire family has been for generations. But the sorting hat, and his newfound friends Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger have something else to say about that. (semi-hiatus until i get back in the hang of school, btw.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this chapter is basically just chapter six of the first book plus some more draco, it'll start getting more interesting at the sorting when it diverges from canon some more. please leave a comment if you enjoyed it!!
> 
> edit: hi! i've been soooo busy with school and theatre this semester (thanks ap euro), but after semester exams i'll hopefully be able to write some!

King’s Cross station proved to be very loud. And very, very crowded. Harry Potter nearly thought that he would prefer to be in his cupboard under the stairs on Number 4 Privet Drive. No, Harry told himself, you get to go somewhere far away, and far different from there.

Harry pushed his luggage trolley up to a guard and asked how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The guard glanced at him with an irritated look and muttered something about “damned kids and their damned jokes.” Harry felt his heart fall into the pit of stomach at the thought of this all being a joke. What if the Dursleys had hired Hagrid? What if they wanted to get his hopes up, just to see his heart crushed? They had left him at the train station with giant smirks on their faces, after all.

Just as these thoughts raced through his mind, he saw a family of around 6 or 7 pass by, sporting red hair and strange clothes, and muttering something about muggles. “Excuse me,” Harry started towards them, “do you know how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?” The woman, who Harry assumed to be the mother of the family, looked at him and asked, “Oh, this your first year, dear? Ron’s new too,” the smallest boy in the group raised his hand in acknowledgement, looking slightly embarrassed. “Now, just push your luggage through that wall there,” the red-haired woman explained, gesturing towards a bit of brick in between Platforms Nine and Ten. She also suggested getting a running start if he was feeling nervous, which Harry, admittedly, was. After two older-looking boys, who seemed to be twins, made their way through the barrier with ease, it was time for Harry and the other first year, Ron, Harry remembered, to make their way through the wall and onto the platform.  
“Ready?” the red-haired boy asked.  
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

And with that the two first years made their way through the brick and onto the platform, seeing a great scarlet train, the Hogwarts Express, steaming. At once, Harry could feel the buzz of anticipation all around the platform, in both the students and the parents. He began to make his way down the side of the scarlet steam-engine (or at least what appeared to be a steam-engine) searching for an empty compartment. Once he found one, he began to struggle to get his luggage on board, which was nearly twice the size that he was. The ginger twins from before offered to help him with his things, and he gladly accepted.

Once Harry and his things were in the compartment, he turned to face the twins. “Thank you,” he looked up at them, and the one on the right put his hand out.  
“I’m Fred,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand.  
“And I’m George,” the other interjected, grabbing Harry’s other hand and shaking with just a little too much force. Harry figured that was intentional.  
Harry grinned up at the twins - Fred and George - and told them, “I’m Harry.”  
He felt two pairs of eyes wander up to his forehead. “No,” he heard Fred, or maybe George, gwak, he couldn’t remember.  
“He can’t be,” the other one glanced to his twin  
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and pulled his bangs up to reveal his lightning shaped scar, “I can be,” he smiled.  
The twins looked at each other and chorused, “You’re Harry Potter!”

Just then Ron walked into the compartment.  
“Who’s Harry Potter?” he questioned excitedly, before looking at the fourth boy in the compartment, who’s scar was still visible.  
“No,” Ron began, “Bloody hell…” he said under his breath, mostly to himself.

Once the other boy had gotten over his shock that he was in the same train carriage has Harry Potter, the one and only, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the twins left, he proved to be very pleasant company. Though, Harry could see the twins excitedly telling their mother that that had just helped Harry Potter with his trunk. The girl who looked slightly younger than Harry, and who he figured to be the sister of Ron and the twins, began jumping up and down. A older, stiff looking boy looked like he was reprimanding her for being foolish, before pushing his luggage further down the side of the train and boarding himself.  
“Have a lovely term, Percy!” his mother called out after him, “and good luck being a prefect!” she added proudly, though the twins rolled their eyes. Percy turned around and waved with a smile.  
The girl asked excitedly if she could go say hello to Harry, to which her mother replied with a firm No.  
“Ginny, you should have seen his scar.” one of the twins smirked a bit.  
The younger girl, Ginny, Harry corrected himself, got a dreamy look in her eyes at that proposition.  
“Do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who was like,” the other twin asked, wide-eyed.  
Their mother stiffened even more, and looked as if she could slap the boy.  
“You may not ask him that, and if he does remember he certainly doesn’t need you reminding him.”  
Suddenly the whistle to the Express was blown, and the twins rushed on board, hurrying goodbyes to their mother and sister.

About half an hour into the journey to Hogwarts, Ron pulled out two sandwiches from his bag and groaned, “Mum always forgets how much I hate corned beef,” and set them aside. Just then an older woman stopped by their door, “Anything from the trolley?” she chirped in a sing-song sort of voice. Harry looked over the vast array of sweets at his disposal, pulled out a few galleons, and asked for a bit of everything.  
Five minutes later, he pulled an odd-shaped package out of the pile, what he read to be as a Chocolate Frog. “Oh, I love those,” Ron told him eagerly, “the chocolate’s alright, but it’s the cards that are fun. Each one has a famous witch or wizard on it. I collect them.” Ron added, sounding a bit proud at that last part. Harry opened his package and a piece of chocolate, indeed shaped like a frog, jumped out. He looked at his card, and saw the name Albus Dumbledore, with a moving portrait of the wizard. He had a long silver beard, and piercing blue eyes partially hidden behind half moon spectacles.  
“Whoa,” Harry murmured, “Wizard paintings move?”  
“‘Course they do,” Ron replied, “It’d be boring otherwise.”  
Harry skimmed over the information on the back of Dumbledore’s card, seeing something about his partnership with an alchemist named Nicholas Flamel, and something about his defeat of a dark wizard called Grindelwald. 

A few more minutes passed before the conversation continued, as the boys were kept relatively busy with the amount of sweets now in their possession.  
“So,” Harry began, “What’s it like being in a family of wizards?”  
“It’s loud, if I’m honest,” Ron told him, through a mouthful of Harry’s Sherbert Lemons, “Plus, all I ever get are hand-me-downs. Not even my wand is my own.” Ron swallowed the candy.  
“I can relate to that,” Harry replied, “I always got my cousin Dudley’s old stuff. I didn’t even know I was magic until Hagrid told me. Nothing Voldemort, or even--”  
Harry was cut off by Ron’s gasp, “You said His name,” he whispered in astonishment.  
“I mean, it’s just a name,” Harry explained, “I didn’t know I shouldn’t.”  
“Well, most people are too afraid to say it, I guess I thought you would be too.”  
Their conversation was ended when a girl with bushy hair entered their compartment.  
“Have either of you seen a toad? It seems that Neville has lost one,” she asked them matter-of-factly.  
“No, sorry,” Harry replied.  
“That’s a shame, though I’m sure it’ll turn up.” She sounded as confident as Harry wished he felt, “I’m Hermione Granger,” she stuck out her hand, and Harry took it.  
“I’m Harry Potter.”  
Her face lit up suddenly, “Oh I’ve read loads about you!”  
Not off-putting at all, Harry told himself sarcastically.  
“You probably know more about me than I do then,” he was only slightly annoyed, “Everyone else seems to.”  
She regained her composure and turned to Ron, “You are?”  
“Ron Weasley.”  
“Nice to meet you,” she turned to leave, looking over her shoulder, “By the way Ron, you’ve got some dirt on your nose, thought you ought to know.”  
The red haired boy rubbed his nose in response, trying in vain to get the dirt off.

Harry and Ron could not make it more than another fifteen minutes without being interrupted. A boy with hair so light it barely looked natural burst into their compartment.  
“Hello Weasel,” he drawled, “I am no longer welcome in Pansy’s compartment. Do you mind?” he questioned motioning to the empty spot beside Harry, the look on his face implying that they were most certainly not allowed to ask why he was joining them.  
“Yes I mind, Malfoy,” Ron retorted, as if the name were poison in his mouth, but both he and Harry knew they didn’t have much of a choice as the blond boy sat beside Harry looking disgusted to be in this position.  
“Just so we’re clear, I’m sitting with you lot as the only other compartment with an empty seat was occupied by a mudblood with poor hair grooming skills.”  
“Don’t worry, Malfoy, I wasn’t curious,” Ron hissed, “and you know that word’s vile.”  
“What word?” Harry wondered.  
“Mudblood,” Ron answered, “It’s a terrible thing to call someone with muggle parents. By someone who likes to think that they’re better than everybody else,” Ron added, shooting Malfoy a venomous look.  
“At least I’m not a blood traitor,” Malfoy hissed.  
Harry looked confused, but figured it was not worth it to ask what a “blood traitor” was at this moment.  
“Calm down, both of you,” Harry finally said, tired of the bickering.  
“What do you know about it, Harry?” Ron snapped.  
Harry looked a bit hurt, but Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.  
“Harry,” he dropped out of his I’m-better-than-you mode, and he let his jaw drop, “Harry Potter?”  
“Yes, him,” Harry rolled his eyes. This was really getting tiring.  
Draco took Harry’s hand and shook it firmly, “I’m Draco- Draco Malfoy.”  
“It might be nice to meet you if you weren’t so prejudiced,” Harry muttered.  
Malfoy looked hurt for a moment, but quickly masked it with a cold look behind his eyes.  
Harry decided he liked Draco much better for those few seconds he wasn’t acting all high and mighty. Just maybe he could catch him out of his I’m-better-than-you mode some other time, and maybe have a bearable conversation.

Several minutes passed with an awkward silence hanging between the three eleven year olds. Ron finally piped up and asked Harry what house he’d like to be in.  
“I’m not sure,” Harry replied carefully, “Hagrid told me that my parent’s were in Gryffin’s Door, or something, so that one I guess.”  
“Gryffindor,” Draco sneered as he corrected the smaller boy. “I hope to be in Slytherin,” his chest puffed out a bit on that last word, “My family’s been sorted into that house for generations.”  
Ron ignored the light haired boy’s comment and added, “I’d like to be in Gryffindor as well. All my siblings, and both my parents were in it. I can’t imagine their disappointment if I don’t make it. I can’t imagine their horror if I get sorted into Slytherin.”

Once the boys realized how close they were getting to Hogsmeade Station, they changed into their school robes and got ready to get off the train.

“So,” Draco Malfoy began, walking out of their compartment, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard about the break-in at Gringotts, what living with those muggles?”  
Harry did not have the faintest idea how Draco knew he’d lived with his aunt and uncle, but he’d worry about that later, he decided.  
“No,” Harry was interested in what the blond boy had to say for once, “What’d they take?”  
“Nothing, which is the bizarre part. The vault was already empty. Mother and Father haven’t stopped talking about it. They’re very important, you know,” Draco told Harry matter-of-factly, clearly trying to impress him.  
“I know now,” Harry muttered, suddenly losing his previous interest in the other boy out of sheer annoyance.

Harry hurried to Hagrid when he heard the large man calling over the first years. After all the passengers had made it off the Hogwarts Express, Hagrid began leading the new students down a narrow path. Just as Harry wondered where they were going, he began to see a magnificent castle on the other side of a dark, glassy lake. The students were directed into tiny wooden rowboats, which were self paddling, with Hagrid at the lead of them. The school only got more impressive, with its towers and torches and arches, as they drew nearer. Once Hagrid huddled all of the first years off of the boats, he lead them through the towering door and into the entrance hall.


	2. Sorting Out Your Problems

The first years were lead by Hagrid into a little room just off of the Great Hall.   
“Here are the students, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid breathed, a bit out of breath after the journey from the lake. Harry could relate.  
“Thank you,” a stern looking woman with a tight black bun and emerald robes said as she nodded curtly.  
The first years stood huddled together, and the Professor turned to them.  
“Hello students,” she began, “And welcome to Hogwarts. Before the feast, we will begin with the sorting ceremony. Before you may take your seat, you must be sorted into one of four houses. While you are at school your house is rather like your family. Anything you do individually reflects upon your entire house. I recommend you keep that in mind. Positive contributions to our community will be rewarded by points to your house, while points may be taken away for rule breaking. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each of the four houses has a unique set of traits, which will be used to sort you. Whichever house you are sorted into you will come to be proud of, and you will come to love. Even if it is not what you expect.” With that, the tall witch led the students into the Great Hall.

As Harry crossed the threshold into the Hall, he looked up and was greeted with the sight of stars in the night sky. He heard the girl with bushy hair explaining that the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky above Hogwarts, and how she read all about it in a book called Hogwarts: A History. Harry heard a few first years behind him scream, and he looked to the front of the hall to see why. Nearly twenty ghosts had flooded -- or floated -- into the hall. The staff and students fell silent as Professor McGonagall brought in a three-legged stool and set a worn-out pointy hat on top of it at the front of the hall. All eyes were on the hat as it began to sing. Harry tried to catch everything it said, but he was far too excited to concentrate for more than a few words at a time. He picked up something about bravery in Gryffindor, loyalty in Hufflepuff, knowledge in Ravenclaw, and cunning in Slytherin. As the sorting hat finished its song, Professor McGonagall began to read off names to be sorted. First was Hannah Abbott who was sorted into Hufflepuff, then another Hufflepuff, then Harry stopped paying close attention for a bit, until he heard a familiar name.  
“Granger, Hermione,” Professor McGonagall called.  
The bushy haired girl ran up, bursting with excitement. The hat thought for a moment before shouting, “GRYFFINDOR!”  
The toad boy, Neville, was sorted into Gryffindor as well.  
Harry perked up when he heard Malfoy, Draco called up to be sorted.  
The hat covered the bold boy’s hair for nearly sixty seconds.  
Malfoy looked like he was going to be sick.  
Students started murmuring.  
Slytherin especially.  
“GRYFFINDOR!”  
The hall went silent.  
Harry looked over at Ron, whose jaw was practically touching his shoes.  
Draco slowly rose from the stool and set the hat back down. He looked at up the professor, who was just as dumbstruck as he was. The grey-eyed boy made his way back down the steps at the front of the hall to the edge of the Gryffindor table, looking paler than usual.  
Harry did not see who, but someone began to clap, followed by the rest of the Gryffindor table. That made Harry smile, even if that Malfoy lad was a bit of a prat.  
The Slytherin table was not amused.

Soon enough, Harry was called up. He nervously made his way up to the stool, and McGonagall placed the hat on his seemingly unkept black hair. The Sorting Hat thought for a moment, before declaring him a “GRYFFINDOR!”  
Harry smiled broadly as his house burst into cheers, followed by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The Slytherin table looked just as put-off as they had when Draco was sorted.  
Harry practically skipped (not quite, almost) down to the Gryffindor table, his table, and took a spot next to Fred and George. They each threw an arm around his shoulders, and told him they knew he would be a Gryffindor all along, with grins as wide has Harry’s. The older, stiffer, Weasley brother leaned across the table to shake Harry’s hand and introduce himself as Percy. Percy the Prefect. Harry tried to suppress his giggles. The group of boys eyes drifted back to the front just as “Weasley, Ronald” was called out.  
“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted, barely thinking at all.  
Ron looked pleased with himself, and scooched in beside Harry.  
“Knew you could do it Ron,” Percy told him proudly, “Well done.”  
And with that, the last few students were sorted, and a man with a long grey beard and bright blue eyes, who Harry recognized as Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, stepped up to the podium in front of the staff’s table.  
“Welcome, welcome!” The old man smiled, “Now, before we begin our Start of Term Banquet I would like to remind all of our students of a few rules. The Forbidden Forest is still, in fact, forbidden to all students without direct permission from a teacher or member of Hogwarts staff. Added to the list of forbidden areas, this year I would advise against paying a visit to the third floor corridor, if you value leaving this castle as you came, that is, in one piece.”  
A look of anxiousness fell over the hall, especially over the first years. However, that dread was quickly forgotten as food appeared on platters up and down the House and Staff tables and conversation picked up.

Harry piled ham, pork chops, potatoes, and some bacon onto his plate. He poured gravy onto his potatoes, as he thought how he’d barely seen so much food in front of him at the Dursleys’, much less have been able to eat it. Harry looked around the Gryffindor table to take in his house, the only family he’d ever truly had, when he saw Draco, still looking quite ill. It did not seem that Draco had eaten, nor said, a thing all meal. Harry made a mental note to talk to the boy after the feast, as he became distracted by a ghost who glided towards them.  
“Hey!” Ron turned to Harry, “that’s Nearly Headless Nick!”  
“Sir Nicholas, if you don’t mind.”  
As Hermione asked how one could be nearly headless, he gave a demonstration by leaning a bit to the side while his head hung off his neck, merely connected to his body by a bit of skin. Someone had clearly tried to behead him and been terribly unsuccessful.  
Harry lost his appetite after that. The ghost began to make sure the new Gryffindors would aid their house in winning the championship this year, as Slytherin has been victorious for ages, to which they assured him that they would.  
Harry looked over at the staff table, and noticed a man

Harry turned around and overheard a boy with an irish accent named Seamus Finnigan saying that he was a half-blood (he had a muggle father). Neville told him that his Gran was convinced he was a squib for ages.  
“What’s a squib?” Harry wondered aloud.  
“A squib is a muggle who’s born into a magical family,” Ron explained.  
Harry nodded, and turned back to the plates as desert showed up. His appetite returning, Harry decided on a treacle tart.

Stomachs full, Percy the Prefect led the Gryffindors up to their common room. Harry noticed Draco trailing behind the rest of the group, looking glum. Despite his obvious flaws, Harry felt sorry for him. He knew what it was like to feel out of place, and he could not wish that upon anyone. Harry jumped a bit as the second staircase they crossed began to move, but Percy explained that this was normal. Of course it was, Harry thought. Harry glanced at the portraits lining the walls, and remembered with a start that they moved. Harry grinned at this. He loved magic. When it did not make him feel like he was about to fall off the edge of the staircase. After a few minutes of walking through the school, they made it up to Gryffindor tower. Percy told the students that they simply needed to tell the portrait of the Fat Lady the current password to enter the common room. “Caput Draconis,” Percy said confidently, and the painting swung out, revealing a round hole in the wall, which they all walked through.

The Gryffindor common room looked more like home than anything Harry had ever seen in his life. There was a gently burning fire in the fireplace which illuminated the deep red and gold cushions on the chairs and couches. The first years were advised to take a seat where they pleased as Professor McGonagall entered through the portrait hole. Harry and Ron sat together, joined by Hermione on the chair across from them. Draco nervously sat himself on the edge of a chair in the far corner of the common room, away from the firelight.

“Welcome to Gryffindor House,” McGonagall told them proudly, “I expect you all will represent our house well. I am the head of Gryffindor, and I expect you all to treat me, as well as the rest of the staff with whom you may interact with the utmost respect. Do not give me any reason to deduct points from our noble house, and we shall have no issues with each other,” she warned, continuing, “Keep in mind to stay away from the Forbidden Forest and third floor corridor, as well. Now, I advise you all to get some rest.” As the professor left through the portrait hole, most of the students retired to their dorms, exhausted from the excitement of the day. All except Harry and Draco.

Before making his way up the staircase and into the dorms, Harry sat in the armchair beside Draco’s.  
“Are you alright?” Harry began carefully.  
“Do I look like I’m alright, Potter?” Draco nearly spat.  
“Hey,” Harry’s voice softened a bit, “things’ll work out fine, okay?”  
The blond boy began to look distraught rather than angry. “What if they don’t?” He asked, “Mother and Father will never forgive me for this.”  
“I don’t see what there is to be forgiven,” Harry began, “you got sorted into this house because of who you are. Your parents love you. They love who you are. Or at least they should. If they don’t then they’re not really family.” Harry thought back to his own ‘family’.  
Draco thought on this.  
“I know, but my cousin on Mother’s side got disowned when he was sorted into Gryffindor,” the boy whispered.  
Harry put his hand on top of Draco’s, who surprisingly did not pull away.  
“If they disown you, you’ll find new family. Family here. Family who deserves you.”  
Harry tried to ignore Draco’s icy grey eyes, which made him just slightly flustered. Harry was not in the mindset to think about why.  
“Are you sure?” Draco asked in a worried tone.  
“Positive.” Harry answered firmly.

That night in bed Harry thought about what the grey-eyed boy was like when he took his mask off. Harry decided that was someone that he could come to care about. He knew he would find a friend in that boy. Somehow. Because the Malfoy desperately needed one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3 comments and kudos are always appreciated!!


	3. I Believe I Can Fly (Soarin', Flyin')

The next morning Harry was up before the sun, and could not seem to get back to sleep. After fifteen minutes of laying in his four poster, staring at the drawn curtains, he pulled them back and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He sat there for a moment before touching his feet to the ground and quietly moving towards his trunk to change into his uniform. After he tied his tie, Harry checked the schedule that was on top of his trunk when he arrived at the dorm to see which classes he had first. He saw that he had double Potions (with the Slytherins) in the morning and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon. That doesn’t sound too bad, Harry thought. As he began to pack his bag with all the books he needed for the day (that was Hermione’s suggestion), he saw Draco get out of bed as well. The boy had dark shadows under his grey eyes, and Harry wondered if he had been able to sleep at all.

After Ron was dressed, he and Harry began to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron groaned as Harry lead them both down to sit next to Draco, but Harry ignored that.  
“Heya, Draco” Harry said.  
Draco nodded in acknowledgement, and looked down at his empty plate. Hermione sat down across from them and told Draco he really ought to eat something. The blond boy ignored her. In fact, the blond boy ignored everything until a tawny owl dropped a letter in front of him. Draco opened the letter with a nearly hopeful glint in his eyes, but the Malfoy’s face fell when he read over the letter.  
Harry gave Draco an apologetic look, hoping that the other boy remembered their conversation last night. The slight eyebrow raise he got in return showed Harry that he did.  
However, the Malfoy’s mask was back on in a second, and for the rest of breakfast you could not even tell anything had been bothering him.

Once Harry was not distracted by Draco, he noticed numerous sets of eyes on the back of his neck and hushed whispers of, “Harry Potter,” this and “Harry Potter,” that. He could really do without all the attention. Then he turned to Ron and asked about the Potions professor.

Once the first years were in the dungeons, Harry sat in between Ron and Draco. He figured Draco was sitting next to him because he was the only other Gryffindor who’s said anything friendly to him since the sorting. They were seated silently for a few minutes before a greasy-haired man with a hook nose walked in, looking irritated. Harry would soon come to learn that he always looked irritated.

“Welcome,” he drawled, “I am Professor Snape, your Potions Master.” He looked over towards Harry before continuing, “Oh, could it be? It seems the family disappointment has made friends with out little celebrity.” The Slytherins snickered. Draco’s face reddened and Harry glared at the professor. Quickly slipping into Malfoy-mode, Draco replied, “Are you sure you aren’t just disappointed you don’t get to have me as your teacher’s pet now?” The Gryffindors laughed, although Snape deducted 5 points from their house for the comment. Snape seemed to enjoy picking on Harry and Draco for the rest of class, until it was finally over and they made their way to the Great Hall.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, besides when Harry’s scar began to hurt in Professor Quirrell’s class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry tried his best to ignore the pain and write it off as nothing important. However, he decided he would tell Ron if it happened again.

Nearly a week of classes went by, when one day Harry heard Draco groaning upon walking into the Gryffindor common room. He walked over to Malfoy and saw the notice pinned up -- Flying lessons start on Tuesday and the Gryffindors would be training with the Slytherins. Harry bumped Draco’s shoulder gently and told him that it wouldn’t be too bad. Hopefully, he added silently.

Tuesday morning rolled around, and Harry piled bacon onto his plate as the mail flew in.  
“Got anymore word from your parents?” Harry asked Draco. He’d known the last letter the blond had gotten from them was not good. Draco shook his head. Harry gave him an apologetic look.  
Draco did, however, receive a copy of The Daily Prophet, a wizarding newspaper. The headline was still something about the Gringotts break-in.  
“What day was that, anyways?” Harry asked.  
Draco looked down at the paper, “July thirty-first.”  
Harry’s eyes widened in realization, “That’s the day I went with Hagrid!” Harry snacthed the paper from Draco, which earned him an irritated look. “Vault 713!” Harry continued, “Hagrid emptied Vault 713! Whatever the thief was looking for is at Hogwarts!”  
“What could possibly be safer at a school than at the most secure wizarding bank in the world,” Draco asked rhetorically.  
“May I remind you that a thief broke into the most secure wizarding bank in the world?”  
“My point exactly.”  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
“Hey look,” Ron began, purposefully changing the subject, “Someone’s sent Neville a Remembrall!”  
Harry glanced over to his classmate, who was holding a clear glass ball, slowly filling up with red smoke.  
“What’s a Remembrall?” Harry mumbled through a mouthful of food.  
Draco rolled his eyes as Ron explained, “It can tell if you’ve forgotten something. If you have, it turns red.” Harry nodded, taking a drink of water.  
“I sometimes forget how much you don’t know,” Draco told him.  
“Living with muggles for ten years can do that to you,” Harry replied. Draco rolled his eyes at the defensiveness in Harry’s voice, “Don’t be a drama queen Potter,” he smiled. Harry stuck his tongue out at the other boy, “Because you’re really one to talk.” Ron took a bite of food as he told them that they sounded like an old married couple. Neither of them argued.

After classes, Harry, Ron, and Draco made their way down to the grounds where the lesson would be held. Draco was looking a little nervous, though he was hiding it well. Harry expected Malfoy-mode to turn on as soon as the Slytherins came into view. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch referee, was not there yet when they arrived. Harry, Ron, and Draco were standing together when they noticed Pansy Parkinson snatch Neville Longbottom’s Remembrall. Neville tried in vain to get it back, but Pansy tossed it to Blaise Zabini, another Slytherin first year who held it out of the boy’s reach.  
“Hey,” Draco stepped towards the Slytherins, “cut it out, Blaise.”  
“Ooh,” Pansy mocked, her voice at least an octave higher than usual, “Gryffindor’s really getting to you isn’t it Draco. What will Daddy and Mummy think about that?” She finished, her eyes wide and brows knitted together.  
Harry moved next to Draco, “Shut up Parkinson,” he snapped.  
“Yeah,” Ron added, though he sounded a bit unsure. He still was not on the best of terms with Draco.  
Blaise tossed the remembrall up and caught it again, “Isn’t this cute? The two blood traitors and the orphan,” he looked at Harry. Just then, an older witch with short hair walked out onto the grass.   
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the Slytherins suspiciously.  
“Pansy took my remembrall,” Neville explained, looking rather miserable.  
Pansy let out a little hmph, “I was just curious,” she said innocently.  
Madam Hooch did not look like she trusted Pansy, but she let it go and the lesson began. She handed out brooms to every student and told them to arrange themselves in two rows, facing each other.  
“Now stick out your wand arm like this,” she extended her hand away from her, “and say ‘Up!’”  
There were a chorus of Up!’s from the first years as she reminded them to speak firmly.  
Harry was the first to have his broom in his hand, followed by Ron and Draco. Hermione, however, did not seem to be as good at this as she had been in the previous subjects.

Once all of the students were holding their brooms, Madam Hooch showed them how to mount, and instructed them to do so. “Remember,” she told them firmly, “Once you have mounted your broomstick, you are not permitted to fly.” Harry mounted and was told his form was perfect. This made him smile. However, his smile faded as Neville began to lift of the ground, looking terrified.  
“Mr. Longbottom,” Hooch barked, Neville flew higher, “What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?” As he flew higher she snapped, “Get down here this instant!”  
Harry looked away as Neville could seemingly not hold on any longer, and he fell to the ground with a crack. Madam Hooch ran over to him, “Broken wrist I see, foolish boy,” she muttered.  
“While I take him to the Hospital Wing, no one may so much as touch a broomstick.”  
The students nodded.  
“What a buffoon,” Pansy smirked, “It seems he’s forgotten his remembrall. Talk about irony.”  
“Give it back,”Harry began.  
“Make me,” Pansy mounted a broom, and began hovering in the air.  
“Fine,” Harry mounted a broomstick of his own, and they were off. Pansy flew nearly fifty feet in the air, Harry trailing just behind her.  
“Harry get down!” Hermione called, “you’re going to get us into trouble!” But Harry didn’t care. He felt the wind whizzing past his face as he soared after Pasny. He felt free. Suddenly, he was level with Pansy and he turned his broom around so they were hovering face-to-face. Pansy smirked as she tossed the remembrall out of her hand, “Fetch.” Harry could get it. He angled his broom towards the ground, extended his arm, and flew. He caught it five feet from the ground and circled back up in victory, holding up the remembrall. The Gryffindors cheered and the Slytherins looked rather put off. The cheering was cut off when Harry heard someone clear their throat from behind him. Harry turned around and his heart nearly stopped. Professor McGonagall. “Professor, I --” He tried to explain himself, but she grabbed his arm, “Potter, follow me.” Harry looked over his shoulder helplessly, and he saw Draco looking at him with a look of worry across his face. He smiled a bit at this before he remembered that he was probably about to get expelled. McGonagall pulled him along until she stopped outside of Quirrell’s classroom. She cracked the door and asked if she would borrow Wood. What was ‘wood’?, Harry thought frantically, imagining all of the wood-related punishments that he could think up. A few seconds later, a boy with a muscular build and a Gryffindor tie emerged from the classroom. “Wood, Potter. Potter, Wood,” she introduced them quickly, “Wood, I’ve found your new seeker.” Wood looked as if he thought his was a joke, “Really? Him?” He asked, looking to Harry. McGonagall nodded, and explain what she just saw. Wood smiled brightly, “Brilliant! Harry, meet me at the quidditch pitch tomorrow before dinner.” Harry nodded, feeling an immeasurable amount of relief.

That night in the common room Harry played Wizard’s Chess with Ron (borrowing Draco’s chess set, though the pieces were not yet very trusting of the black-haired boy).  
“So,” Ron began, after they had finished the game, “You’re really gonna be on the quidditch team?”  
“Yeah,” Harry grinned.  
“I thought you were done for when McGonagall saw you,” Draco smiled, sitting next to the dark-haired boy.  
Harry pushed Draco over with his shoulder and the Malfoy’s smile grew wider.  
“So,” Harry continued, as if he did not just knock his friend over, “Mind explaining Quidditch to me so I don’t make a fool out of myself in front of Wood?”  
Ron and Draco’s faces lit up immediately. Especially Draco’s. He loved knowing things others didn’t.  
“Alright,” Ron began, “There are three kinds of balls. The bludgers, the quaffle, and the snitch.”  
“The beaters try to hit the bludgers towards the other team. The chasers try to get the quaffle into one of three goal posts for points. The keeper guards the goal posts from the other team,” Draco continued.  
“And you, the seeker, try to catch the golden snitch. That ends the game and earns your team a hundred-fifty points, nearly guaranteeing victory,” Ron finished.  
“So, easy enough,” Draco added, with a smirk.  
This earned him another shove from Harry’s direction.  
Ron and Draco became immersed in a conversation about professional Quidditch teams, but Harry was unable to catch most of what they were saying as he began dozing off in front of the fire. When the three first years finally headed up to their dorm, Harry fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading my trash lmao. leave comments and kudos if u liked it tho (wink wonk) <3


	4. Troll In the Dungeons

The next few weeks passed uneventfully, and finally it was Halloween. That morning, they entered the Great Hall to find that it was decorated with floating Jack-O-Lanterns and a few skeletons hung on either side of the house tables. Harry shuddered as he wondered whether or not they were real. He pushed that thought away when he picked up a bagel to put on his plate as the mail flew in. Just as he took his first bite, two large tawny owls dropped a rather long parcel in front of him that jutted out at the bottom. Harry read the note attached to it, which told him that he mustn’t open the parcel at the table, signed from Professor McGonagall. Harry showed the note to Draco who stood up from the table and motioned for Ron to come with them them, and they started back up to the dorms, followed by Ron who put down his bacon looking disappointed.

Once they had made through the portrait hole and up the stairs to their room, all three boys sat on Harry’s bed, the parcel resting across their three laps. As soon as they were on the bed, Harry threw the note off the package and tore open the paper. A new, glossy Nimbus 2000 was revealed to him, and his eyes widened as he rose from the bed to hold the broomstick out in front of him. “Wicked,” Ron grinned. Draco was grinning just as wide, if not a little jealous. After the boys marveled at it for another few minutes, they made their way out of Gryffindor tower and to Charms.

They were the last three Gryffindors to arrive at Professor Flitwick’s classroom and Ron sat next to Harry, which left Draco to make his way over to Hermione, the only other empty seat. Draco looked slightly uncomfortable at this, but didn’t say anything about it as the tiny Professor began to explain the spell they would cover today, which was a levitating charm. “The incantation is _Wingardium Leviosa,_ ” he informed the class, motioning for them to repeat the phrase. “ _Wingardium Leviosa,_ ” the class recited, until Flitwick looked pleased with the pronunciation and motioned for them to stop. He demonstrated the proper motion of the wand for this charm, and then told the class to practice levitating a feather in pairs with the person sitting next to them. Draco let out a sigh that only Harry noticed and turned to Hermione. The class all practiced the ‘ _Swish and Flick_ ’ that the Professor had demonstrated, but so far no one had any luck, although Seamus did manage to create a small explosion. After five minutes of failed attempts, Draco rolled his eyes, declaring this charm impossible.  
“Well that’s because you’re saying it wrong,” Hermione scolded.  
“If you know so much about magic how about you do it, mudblood,” Draco snapped.  
Hermione’s cheeks reddened as the class went silent. She made their feather levitate flawlessly, then ran out of the classroom, muttering that she'd be in the bathroom.  
Draco looked about as red as Hermione had as Harry and Ron glared at him. They may not have been fond of Hermione, but what he said to her was uncalled for, and no one saw her for the rest of the day.

Harry and Ron were rather cool towards Draco for the rest of the day until dinner finally rolled around. Plopping down beside Harry, Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter, are you going to talk to me again or not?”  
“If you apologize to Granger, maybe,” Ron answered. Harry knew that Draco only called her that name because he was angry with her, but he agreed with Ron.  
“You’re not even friends with her, what do you care?” Draco shot back defensively, but Harry thought he saw some worry in those grey eyes.  
“I care that you called her a mudblood!” Ron said a little too loudly, getting stares from some of the surrounding students, “Look Malfoy, I’m not going to hang around you if you’re some just pretentious prejudiced git, I thought you were different,” he finished.  
Draco glared back at Ron, “I’m _trying_ to overcome that, Weasley. I’ve been saying,” he paused, stopping himself, “that word without a second thought my whole _life_. A few weeks with you and Potter barely combats that!” Draco sighed and regained his Malfoy-like composure. Harry looked away, slightly uncomfortable, piling his plate with food.

Just as dessert was appearing on the platters in the middle of Gryffindor table, Professor Quirrell ran in, shouting something about a troll in the dungeons, and then fainted, his turban breaking the fall. Students began to stand up from their tables, fearfully chattering amongst themselves. After a few moments of this Professor Dumbledore finally silenced the hall, telling the prefects to escort the houses to their respective common rooms. Harry Ron and Draco began to follow Percy out of the hall and up the stairs before Draco grabbed Harry’s arm.  
“Hermione.”  
Harry rolled his eyes, “What about her now?”  
Ron’s eyes widened before the blond could answer, “She’s been in the bathroom this whole time! _She doesn’t know about the troll!_ ”  
Harry’s brows furrowed before Draco dragged him up the stairs and down the hallway to the girl’s bathroom, followed by a hesitant looking Ron.

Draco stopped outside the door before walking in, hearing Hermione screaming, followed by a loud bang.  
“That bathroom smells horrible,” Ron noted.  
“Ron, that bathroom smells like a troll,” Draco corrected, before drawing his wand and opening the door. The troll was huge. And gray. And lumpy like a toad. And its wooden club was hovering over Hermione, who was crouched in the back corner inside one of the stalls.. Before Draco thought it through he shouted, “Hey you great brute!” Harry and Ron looked at each other as the troll turned to the three boys. Draco stood still for a moment, before extending his arm and flicking his wand, “Wingardium Leviosa!” The troll’s club levitated above its head, before dropping on it. The troll hit the ground with a thud.  
“Do you think it’s dead?” Hermione asked, emerging from the stall.  
Harry looked at the troll for a moment before answering, “No, just knocked out.”  
Hermione nodded, before McGonagall, Snape, and wide-eyed Quirrell rushed through the door.  
“What in Merlin’s name do you think you were doing?” McGonagall snapped, looking at the three of them with a mixture of anger and shock.  
Snape glared at Draco with dark eyes, before averting his gaze to Harry.  
“Professor,” Hermione began, stepping away from the other three, “They came to save me. When I heard of the troll, I thought I could beat it alone. I was wrong. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.” The three boys eyed at her with as much shock as McGonagall. She was telling a lie? To a teacher? For _them?_  
“I will say I expected more from you, Miss Granger. Five points from Gryffindor. Get back to Gryffindor tower, the feats will be finished in the common room.”  
Hermione rushed out of the bathroom, looking down at her shoes the whole way.  
“Now, you three were very lucky. I will be rewarding five points to Gryffindor for each of you.”  
The boys grinned at that, making their way out behind Hermione.

They climbed through the portrait hole and found the bushy haired girl sitting by the fire with a small plate of food.  
“Thanks,” she muttered awkwardly.  
“‘Course,” Ron replied.  
“Hey,” Draco began, looking incredibly uncomfortable to be saying this, “Listen, I’m-- I’m sorry about earlier, Granger.”  
Hermione nodded and told him it was okay, looking down at her plate.  
After that night, the four began to grow closer. It was hard to battle a full grown mountain troll without becoming friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, comments and kudos appreciated as always! (seriously! talk to me <3) also, this chapter was on the shorter side, sorry about that. it was either a short chapter or a ridiculously long one. i'll try to get another few chapters up before i leave for geekycon on wednesday (i'm so excited, tell me if you're gonna be there!!) after this wednesday there probably won't be any updates until next week.


	5. Catch It in Your Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry ive been gone for like a week oops geekycon happened! it was really really fun :DD this chapter is a short one too, smh

The November air was cooling, and Quidditch season finally started. Harry’s stomach felt as if the golden snitch was flying around inside of it as he made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast on the morning of the first match. 

“Harry,” Hermione insisted, sitting across from him, “you have to eat.”  
“I don’t have to do anything,” Harry corrected. Draco rolled his eyes beside him.  
“What Granger means is if you choose not to eat it will be detrimental to both your health and performance. Eat up, Potter.” Harry shoved the grey eyed boy with his shoulder and piled some fruit onto his plate. Ron finally made it to breakfast, practically skipping into the Great Hall.  
“Harry, you ready to make the Slytherins wish they were never born?” the redhead asked rhetorically, grinning ear to ear. Harry’s pushed his food around his plate as he muttered something that sounded like a yes. Sensing Harry’s nervous energy, Draco pulled Harry out of the Great Hall and around a corner with an eyeroll.

“Harry, there’s no way you’re going to catch the snitch for us acting like this. You were chosen as the youngest seeker in a century for a reason. You’ll do fine, Potter,” the intensity of the nervous feeling in Harry’s stomach lessened considerably at these words. Draco stepped away before wrapping Harry in a hug, pulling away quickly. Harry once again had a nervous feeling in his stomach, but the new one was strangely pleasant. “Thanks, Draco,” his green eyes lit up with a smile.

After eating the fruit on his plate, Harry bid his friends goodbye as he headed down to the locker rooms to get dressed for the match. Followed by a chorus of ‘Good luck!’s from the Gryffindors, he left the Great Hall.

After Harry was dressed in his Quidditch uniform, he sat on the bench beside the lockers with his Nimbus 2000. Oliver Wood began giving a pre-game pep talk, but the nervous feeling in Harry’s stomach was back, and preventing him from listening. After Wood was done talking, the team stood up and began to leave the locker room. Angelina Johnson, a chaser, wished him good luck as they strode onto the field. Harry nodded in thanks, gripping his broomstick slightly tighter. Harry looked up to the stands and caught Ron, Hermione, and Draco smiling at him. Madam Hooch had the two team captains shake hands, and as soon as Harry’s feet left the ground, his stomach felt lighter. He watched as the snitch was released into the air, and it only took a few seconds before the golden blur disappeared into the sky. Harry rose above the other players, keeping an eye out for the snitch. He saw Wood blocked a few Slytherin goals and Fred or George hit Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, with a bludger. Harry couldn’t even hear his own laugh over the stands’ cheering. Harry listened as Lee Jordan, a friend of Fred and George and the Quidditch announcer, narrated what was going on in the game as Harry’s eyes searched for any sign of the snitch. Harry finally spotted a glint of gold and looked over to see if the Slytherin seeker was any closer, who, he decided was not, and raced towards the golden glint. He stuck his hand out, stretching his fingers out as far as was physically possible, before he felt a jolt from his right side, to see Marcus Flint flying away on his broom, giving Harry a smirk from over his shoulder. The silver and green section of the stands looked rather smug, while boo’s were coming from the other sections. Lee Jordan made a few comments on how disgusting Slytherins were, before being shushed by McGonagall. Harry began to scout for the snitch once more before his broom suddenly jolted to the left. Harry looked around, confused to see if another Slytherin had rammed into him. Finding that there was no one within twenty feet of him, his broomstick suddenly flew higher. He looked around to see if any of his teammates had noticed what was going on, which they hadn’t, and he heard Lee Jordan continue commentating as if nothing was wrong. Harry’s broom lurched to the right, as he struggled to keep a firm grip on the handle. He tried to keep it steady, but his broomstick was now completely out of his control. Lee Jordan announced a Slytherin goal, followed by cheering, still not noticing Harry’s predicament.

“What is Harry doing?” Draco turned to Hermione.  
“It almost looks as if,” she paused, grabbing binoculars from Ron and focusing them on Harry, “It looks as if he’s lost control,” she finished turning to Draco with worry in her eyes. At Hermione’s comment, Neville looked as if he was about to vomit. Ron took his binoculars back and looked through them, “I think you’re right, Hermione, but who could do that?” Draco turned towards the faculty stand, to find a certain black-haired teacher muttering under his breath, eyes focused on Harry. “I think it’s Snape.”

Harry noticed as the crowd suddenly broke into mumbled conversations as many of the students began to point up at him. His broom suddenly flipped upside down, Harry now hanging from the handle for dear life.

“What do we do?” Neville nearly whined.  
“I’ve got it,” Draco said, with a near mischievous glint in his grey eyes.  
Hermione looked as if she wanted to protest, but Draco was gone before she could say anything else.  
Ron focused his binoculars back on Harry. His broom was getting worse and worse, but the Weasley twins finally flew up to try and pull Harry onto one of their brooms to no avail, as Harry’s broom kept flying higher and higher the closer the twins got to him. Ron noticed Flint scoring multiple times through the commotion without anyone else noticing. Hermione looked nervously through the crowd to the stand Snape was in, to find Draco placing a brown, round object next to the teacher. The Potions Master suddenly lost his concentration with a disgusted look on his face as he cupped his hand over his nose. The Faculty Stand was cleared out quickly after that, as it seemed to have started to smell. Draco reappeared next to Ron and Hermione with a smug look on his face as Harry’s broom returned to normal, as Harry somehow clambered back onto his broom as it raced downward. The Gryffindor seeker looked as if he could be sick as he clamped a hand over his mouth, but instead of vomiting, he held his hand up proudly revealing the snitch. The Gryffindor stands went wild.

“I caught it!” Harry yelled through a smile, “I’ve caught the snitch!” He heard Flint trying to argue that catching it in your mouth doesn’t count, but Madame Hooch paid him no attention. “Harry Potter’s caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!” Lee Jordan announced with glee. But before Harry could be bombarded by the Gryffindors, Draco, followed by Ron, and Hermione, dragged him back into the castle.  
“What are you doing?” Harry complained once they were on the staircases back up to Gryffindor tower, snatching his wrist out of Draco’s grasp.  
“We need to discuss something,” Hermione told him firmly.  
“What, is it about my broom? It just malfunctioned or something, isn’t that normal?”  
“No,” Ron stopped looking Harry in the eyes, “it takes dark magic for a broomstick to do something like that.” Harry felt his face go pale.  
“Oh.”

Once they reached the common room, the four first years made their way over to a group of chairs in arranged in the corner.  
“Did you see who it was?” Harry whispered, despite the fact the common room was still deserted.  
“ _Snape,_ ” Draco answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo thanks for reading, comments and kudos always appreciated <3 also i am looking for someone to edit this story/for me to discuss my ideas nd stuff for the plot with! if you'd be willing to do that message me on tumblr pls! (http://odetonaps.tumblr.com)


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